


How To Walk On One's Knees

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is two people, <i>Prince Arthur</i> and <i>just Arthur</i>. One shouts his name and throws things at him and the other shouts his name out of pleasure. Merlin likes to watch the two overlap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Walk On One's Knees

**Author's Note:**

> So, I feel like I should say something here. After shipping Merlin for two years now, this is the first pwp I've written for them (scandal, I know). I really wanted to do something that played with role reversal and have Merlin be the one in control (both in knowledge and in practice) so here it is...
> 
> Written for [Porn Battle](battle.oxoniensis.org) for the prompts: _generous, secret, touch, reverse, worship, submissive, teasing, service, rimming._
> 
> Set pretty early on in canon, nowhere specific.

Merlin lays back with Arthur leaning over him, Arthur’s feather bed and stuffed pillows a lot more comfortable than his own. The _sires_ melt away easily, the _prats_ and _idiots_ take a little bit longer but eventually they get lost in accidental endearments and their actual names. It will all right itself in the morning when Merlin slips back into his own bed for a few uncomfortable hours before he has to get up and serve Arthur breakfast but for now...

For now, Arthur is kissing his way down Merlin’s chest, gently stroking the bruises that Merlin ends up with at the end of each day, either through helping the knights train or through his various chores. They were nothing compared to Arthur’s bruises and scars but he still treats each one like it’s unique, a testament to Merlin’s service.

He works his way lower, each kiss lingering, each too slow. Merlin wants to sit up, drag Arthur into his body and pay him back in kind for his teasing touches but Arthur’s hand is on his chest, holding him still, rendering him helpless.

Arthur pauses over one of his nipples, breathing hotly on it and taking it between his teeth, biting down just enough to draw a gasp from Merlin. A small victory, the first step in getting him to surrender himself completely.

Merlin stares down into Arthur’s golden hair as he worries Merlin’s other nipple between his teeth, affording it the same treatment as the first. He tries not to get lost in the heady feeling of having his prince, of having Arthur focus entirely on him and what he wants, the complete reverse of the thoughtless, careless man that would boss him around during the day. But that was how it had to be, Merlin knew that, ever since that first day where Merlin had swung for him and Arthur had forced him to his knees. Now, more often than not, it was Arthur on his knees for Merlin but nobody could ever know that.

Arthur moves away from his chest, lying flat on his stomach between Merlin’s legs and mouthing his way over Merlin’s abdomen. The hand on his chest drifting lower until it’s resting on his hip, making him tense in anticipation but Arthur just keeps on teasing, peppering light kisses on his flushed skin.

“Arthur...” Merlin all but begs. He is afforded a glance, Arthur’s eyes sparkling the same way they did when they were arguing. “Don’t be an ass.”

“An ass?” Arthur raises an eyebrow, not knowing that the memory was so fresh in Merlin’s mind. “We’re back to that one, are we?

Merlin opens his mouth to say something, possibly a string of other names that he could call Arthur but they get caught in his throat when Arthur grips his hip tighter, his fingernails are digging in to the skin. Merlin has a few seconds to brace himself with fistfuls of Arthur’s sheets before Arthur takes Merlin’s cock in his other hand, lowering his lips onto it. Merlin thinks, as he always does when in this situation, that Arthur’s lips were made for this, full and always pouting, almost obscenely. Just accidentally catching a glimpse of them off guard was enough to make Merlin hard, sometimes at the most inconvenient of times. 

All thoughts desert him when he feels the heat of Arthur’s mouth on his cock, inching down it until it hits the back of his throat before rising again, leaving its entire length slick with spit. When he reaches the head, he stays still, his tongue drawing patterns and writing letters, circling round and round until Merlin has to grab his hair and ease him off for fear that it would all be over.

Arthur smiles up at him, that cocky, self-assured smile that Merlin had hated so much to begin with, the one that had said _I can do anything I want to you and there is nothing you can do about it_. It still said that, only now it was a promise instead of a threat.

“We have all night,” Arthur reassures him, glancing out the window at the moon hanging in the sky signalling a handful of hours until dawn. Merlin doesn’t remember ever staying this long in Arthur’s bed before. 

Arthur starts lazily stroking Merlin’s cock as incentive but Merlin shakes his head, not as easily distracted from his duty as Arthur could be.

“I should get back soon,” he says. “I can’t stay here. Someone will notice.”

“Who?” Arthur asks. “You’re my servant, who’s going to question you being in my room?”

“Naked. In your bed. With you,” Merlin counts off the risks, Arthur punctuating each one with a kiss, dismissing them the instant they fall from Merlin’s lips. “What about Gaius, he’ll worry if my bed’s not been slept in.”

“I’ll make something up. I’ll say I had you up all night...”

“You _are_ going to have me up all night.” Merlin points out.

“...Polishing my armour,” Arthur finishes, ignoring the bait.

“And what about the prince? However will I tell him why I’m late for work?” Merlin asks but there’s a smile playing on his lips, a sure sign that he’s given in.

“He’ll understand,” Arthur promises. “In fact, he might even give you the morning off.”

“Will he? That’s generous.”

“Yes but only if you make it worth his while.” Arthur says, that grin rising again, the one he couldn’t keep off his face when he’d won.

“Oh, it will be.” Merlin promises, taking Arthur by surprise and rolling them over so that he had the upper hand. But unlike Arthur, he didn’t try to hold him down, without magic it would have been a futile effort anyway. Instead he sat back on his heels and slapped Arthur lightly on the thigh, something he wouldn’t have dared do in any other situation. “On your knees.”

“Yes, sire,” Arthur says and although Merlin knows it’s a joke, it sends a jolt to his now neglected cock.

Arthur scrambles up onto his knees; the soft bed and sumptuous bedding making him sway slightly to get his balance. Merlin’s hands automatically go out to catch him and ends up kissing him instead, something that was becoming entirely too easy. He worries that one day he’ll be doing something completely ordinary like handing him a sword in the training ground and he’ll find himself accidentally on his lips instead. Already, bathing and dressing him were becoming difficult to handle.

“Turn,” Merlin says, pulling away from Arthur and sitting back, giving him room. 

As soon as he’s facing the wooden headboard, Merlin runs a hand down his back, guiding him forward until he has to put his palms flat against the wood to stop himself from falling. When he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, straight back and arse in the air, Merlin starts moving his hand lower, over the small of his back and down over his arse cheek. He can feel the muscles tense underneath his fingers and Merlin imagines it’s caused by the mere memory of every other time Merlin had had him in this position, fingers buried inside him, twisting some of the knowledge he’d gained from numerous medical books to his own purpose. Arthur had been hesitant at first, as Merlin had been until he tried it and just like Merlin, Arthur had found himself wanting it at every possible opportunity. Or perhaps, Merlin thinks, it’s what the fingers had naturally led to.

That would come later, Merlin smiles to himself, balancing on his heels and leaning forward into Arthur’s back. This was the perfect time to try something different. 

He brings his other hand up to Arthur’s arse, spreading the cheeks and licking his lips. The instant his mouth touches Arthur’s hole, he feels Arthur jump.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouts, pushing against the headboard and arching his back. Merlin learned quite early on that it was a good reaction, despite how much it sounded like the way he shouted Merlin’s name when he was about to throw something at him.

Merlin circles his tongue around the muscle, mimicking what Arthur had been doing to his cock earlier. He even goes so far as to spell out Arthur’s name and then his own but Arthur is too busy scraping his nails on the headboard, searching desperately for something to cling onto, to notice. He dips his tongue in and out again, stretching him slightly to hurry things along.

When half-formed curses and blasphemies start being yelled at him, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks on them, getting them as wet as he’d made Arthur’s hole.

“Ready?” Merlin asks even though Arthur is far passed being able to answer him coherently.

Merlin’s first finger slides in easily where Arthur was slick with spit and already half way open for him. He brings it all the way out and replaces it with two, twisting them and splitting them inside him until Arthur is cursing at him again. Merlin smiles at how easily the two Arthurs overlap when he’s spread out, ordering Merlin to fuck him.

Merlin considers taking him like this, splayed against the headboard but like always, he wants to see Arthur’s face when he’s inside him, watch as he submits everything to Merlin, ceases to be _Prince Arthur_ and becomes _just Arthur_. 

He grabs his shoulder and pulls on it enough so that Arthur will turn then uses all his strength to get him down on his back with all Merlin’s weight falling on his chest, his hands somehow finding the mattress beneath Arthur’s body. Arthur obligingly spreads his legs and hooks them around Merlin’s hips, it’s not ideal but it’s the quickest way for Merlin to push inside him. He wants to go slowly and tease him but something in the way Arthur’s grabs at his back makes him frantic, like he has to have him now. Besides, they have hours in which Merlin can tease and frustrate him, in that second all he could think was that he wanted him.

Each thrust strains him, pulling muscles he’s sure he’s never used before but it all fades into the background, giving way to flashes of details; the bright blue Arthur’s eyes, the sweat beading down his chest, the way he breathes in when their bodies are flush together, how he pulls Merlin even closer, pulling him deeper. 

“Merlin!” Arthur cries out and it’s that same shout, like he only has one way of screaming his name. It drives Merlin over the edge and he comes inside Arthur, still trying to haphazardly thrust inside him in an attempt to get Arthur to come alongside him. 

When he has nothing more to give, he collapses against Arthur’s chest, too exhausted and too happy to disentangle himself. He feels Arthur still hard against him and he seeks out his cock with his hand, grasping it tight and stroking him until he’s shouting Merlin’s name again and spilling himself between them.

After lying quiet for a few minutes, Arthur’s hand finds its way into Merlin’s hair, running his fingers through it until it became a mess. “I think, after that, you can have the afternoon off too,” he offers.

“And what would I do with all that time off?” Merlin asked, craning his neck to look up at him.

“What we just did. Repeatedly,” Arthur says, with the dopey smile of someone drunk on love and sex.

Merlin nods but he knows come the morning Arthur will have to become the prince again and he’ll become the servant. But it doesn’t matter; he’s grown quite fond of helping the prince dress and bringing him breakfast in bed. It’s almost domestic. And he knows that were he anybody else he’d never get to spend so much time, completely unquestioned, with him. He was the only one who got to see Arthur at his best and his worst, who got to see who he really was and the King he would become.

And if Arthur wasn’t too rude and refrained from throwing things at him, he might even willingly walk on his knees for him, just like Arthur had promised to show him how.


End file.
